


used to cold, new to warm

by HelmetParty



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Season 3 Spoilers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 22:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelmetParty/pseuds/HelmetParty
Summary: Dr. Alexei is a prisoner; taken away from his mission, unable to return even if he wanted to. He doesn't have a death wish but to be honest, he's not looking too far ahead.But Murray speaks Russian. That's the only reason he's okay with staying, nothing else.





	used to cold, new to warm

**Author's Note:**

> Will update once I do a full rewatch - but had to get this out of my system. <3 I love Alexei~  
> Also: he does get shot, but not a killing blow, because he doesn't deserve that! I love my son.

He wasn't fine with Strawberry if he was being honest. It tasted like cheap shit - Cherry was where it's at. And if he was being honest, too, that cop - Hopper - was terrifying. He tried to use his information to keep him safe, but honestly, Americans we're impulsive and violent. He should have seen it coming. When he sees Hopper coming at him...he thought he really was going to die.

He can hear them yelling inside, but the absolute joy of being free was too much to bear. Surface joy, anyway. He would get into the car, and they would run out and stop him, and it would look like he could have gotten away, but didn't. The car was really nice, so much nicer than his back home, and hell, he really could have been free.

He stops, backs up and gets out, a grim expression on his previously grinned face. He tosses the keys back to the cop and sighs to himself. "I like strawberry, too."

It was hard explaining everything to them. He uses a straw and the wrappers to try and give a valid representation, but it looks like it's getting through the translation by the way they're acting. He knows that no matter how much he says now, it won't matter, even if he says nothing he's dead to _them_ anyway. Literally - a dead man walking if he's found, or even if he returns home.

He really just want's to relax now. Too much stress - besides, that life is behind him now. Why do they care about the gate, anyway? It's not like they can do anything. There's three of them, he thinks. The whole Russian army is there, and even though this cop is courageous and strong, he couldn't fight them all. He laughs in his face.

* * *

He doesn't know where they're going until Murray tells him. The car ride is loud with bickering he doesn't understand, though he's picked up a few words by now.

"What was that?"

"I told them they should have sex."

He hesitates. "They have not had sex?"

"No."

Alexei snorts. He had thought them husband and wife, maybe lovers or something with the way they screamed and looked at each other, but Murray's revelation told otherwise and hell was it hilarious. 

They laugh together. He feels happy, for a moment.

* * *

They arrive at a carnival. It's bright and loud but it smells like sweets and looks like fun, fun he hasn't seen in Russia. It doesn't matter, though - Joyce and Hopper are off, and he yells something at Murray before he storms off, so they stay in the car. 

"And why all this? If I just turn the keys, it's like turning off a car. But then the car still works, does it not?"

"Yeah," Murray replies as they sit on the back of the car and look through the papers. "And do you want the car to still work or do you want it to explode?"

"I want the car to explode."

"Good! Then do this. Just make sure you are nowhere near it when it does. It's not pretty. Turns people into dust. And then..."

He doesn't want Murray to die, he's the only one who can understand him but more than that, he hasn't been a total asshole. 

"It's over," Murray finishes. Alexei smiles and nods. "And I become an American citizen and join in the fun, yes?" He nods over to the carnival.

Murray grins and puts a hand on his shoulder, leaning in. "Who said you had to be an American to join the fun?"

He smiles - they both do. It's loud and chaotic but it's interesting and different, and Murray does nothing to disparage him. "It doesn't get more American than this, my friend! Fatty foods, ugly decadence, rigged games." Alexei follows with his hands in his pockets, looking around, simply smiling and observing. He wasn't sure how it worked, but the picture Murray painted was one he couldn't get anywhere else.

"They are rigged, these games?"

"Yeah."

It was confusing to say the least. "They don't look rigged to me," he mentions idly.

"That's just it, _my dear Alexei_. They're designed to present the illusion of fairness. But it's all a scam, a facade to put money into the rich man's pocket. And that, my dear friend, is America."

My dear. Murray said _my dear_. Did he mean something else? Surely lost in translation. 'My dear friend' wasn't the problem, but 'my dear Alexei.' Must be an American thing, he thinks, staring at Murray, trying to figure it out in his head.

"But hey!" Murray's voice knocks him out of his thoughts. He hands him a string of thick paper and he takes it. "Knock yourself out."

"Wait! Where are you going," Alexei calls as Murray huffs away. He's a little scared of being alone around so many American's, if he was being honest. 

"To get us the closest thing to food I can find."

Alexei is a little startled and a lot confused. He holds the line of paper out before him as the other walks away, and the possibilities of fun entering his mind once again, floating away most of his anxiety about the situation as a whole. He could play the rigged games, see for himself if they were what Murray said they were.

* * *

He wins. He's high-fiving Americans that huddled around him, watching him precisely hit every shot he took. He was trained to use guns, after all, even though he was a scientist, it was just standard protocol. 

He's handed a big stuffed animal - he can barely hold it in his arms, but it made him happy. For a moment, he nearly forgets everything that was going on, everything that's happened. He was excited to show Murray, happily strolling down the way, nearly skipping, looking for any sign of him. He had won a rigged game! 

Alexei spots him in line for something. He instantly jumps and waves, yelling to him. "Look! It's not rigged! It's not rigged!"

He's laughing like the character on the TV and smiling joyously, holding two corn dogs in his hands. For a moment, nothing mattered.

Boom. 

He feels the blood before he feels the impact. There is a startled look on Murray's face, his mouth lays agape, and he turns to look to his gut, where he could feel something wet. 

His hand goes to it. _Blood_.

Murray drops everything and runs to him. "Alexei!" he screams, but it fades out, all he feels is the shot and all he sees is the color. He was smart, he was really smart, he could tell the shot was so close to missing something important, so close, so very very close.

Or maybe it was his way of convincing himself he wasn't about to die.

Murray puts his arm around him before he falls. All Alexei can think of is who shot him, but he knows the answer, he knows. They were _here_ , they were fucking _here_ , and that means he was at risk - that all of them were at risk, that _Murray_ was at risk. They stammer over to a corner behind one of the tents and Alexei throws himself to the ground, suddenly exhausted and very hot, the fact he could have almost died rushing to his head; the fact he still might. Whoever took the shot was still around.

"Keep pressure on it!" Murray mutters, clearly frightened, his jacket going to Alexei's stomach. "Ill get you help. I'll get help!"

All Alexei can do is think. He breathes in and out, keeping as much pressure as he can tolerate on his wound. He's never been a man to pray, rather a man of science and reason, but in that moment...well. Praying never hurt anybody in times like these.

All he knew was he had to stay awake. Murray wouldn't leave him, he wouldn't.

He hoped he wouldn't.


End file.
